Part 10: Happy Birthday Baby Lightman
by pjstillnoon
Summary: It's Lewis' birthday and for his birthday, he gets a son of his own. A 'You Don't Lie To Me' (aka The Saga) series companion piece.
1. Chapter 1

His wife is a champion. Just over twelve hours of labour, once it became clear that this was it, and she's done it with barely a complaint, no crisis of faith, hardly any pain medication, and complete determination and focus. Lewis has been buzzing with a nervous energy, but Gabi has kept calm and quiet, steadily working her way through the hours at home, and then at the hospital. She's a low-key kind of woman, quiet, like he is, but he's never seen her like this. So focused. And determined. And barely talking. He's had to try hard a few times to get her attention, to ask her to drink some water, or to stop pushing, or to get on the bed for a check. It had him a little worried at first, but then he remembered the woman who took their birthing classes explaining that each woman dealt with childbirth in different ways, and it didn't always involve swearing like a sailor. And at the end of the day, he's not pushing another person out of his vagina, so it's whatever his wife wants.

He's kneeling on the floor of the delivery room on a padded mat, and Gabi is squatting in front of him, with her arms resting on his shoulders. She's pretty much naked, which Lewis thinks is brave, seeing as everyone can see everything. He doubts Gabi cares much about it, which just leaves him in awe even more. In awe of every woman who's done this. Giving birth is such an intense scenario; the birthing classes didn't really prepare him for how it really was going to be, though they did try. Lewis has his hands in Gabi's back, the two pressure point dimples, jamming his index fingers in hard to help relieve the pain of another almighty contraction. She's bathed in sweat, her face bright red, hair sticking to her neck and back. Lewis can't imagine himself going through anything like this. Total awe.

When the contraction ends, Gabi drops her head to his shoulder, pants as she rests. Lewis doesn't say anything, with his hands occupied, he finds himself less likely to use his voice. The midwife checks to see how far dilated Gabi is and then looks up to Lewis and gives a nod, before moving away again. He feels a spike of adrenaline course through his stomach and adjusts his weight slightly with the extra energy threatening to spill out. But he doesn't want to unbalance his wife. Whose thighs must be on fire, squatting as she has for at least five minutes straight. Before this standstill they had been walking around, leaning on the bed, doing the hands and knees thing (which was great for Lewis, who was able lean over her and press almost his entire body weight into those pressure points in her back. She was very happy with him in that position).

"Gabi," Lewis says, speaking loudly because he doesn't have his hands to add volume to his words. "Babe," his hands twitch against her back anyway. He moves them so he can push gently at her shoulder. When she's looking at him, dazed, he tells her that on the next contraction she can start pushing. She doesn't respond to him and so he says it again, this time giving her shoulder a squeeze, moving his right hand in a 'push' sign. "Ok?" He says and signs. She nods.

The next contraction is there quickly and Lewis reminds her again to push. This is it. It's time. And Gabi does. Her fingers digging hard into his shoulders. He puts his hands on her thighs and rubs up and down steadily and firmly. He can feel the tension in her muscles. She pushes again and again, working with each contraction and he murmurs encouragements, words he knows intellectually that he's saying, but which barely register in his own ears, even travelling along his jaw directly to his eardrums. He doesn't even know if Gabi can hear him, but it instinctively feels like the right thing to do. Gabi pushes so hard on the next one she cries out. It makes Lewis want to call time out. So he can ask her what she needs, can go and get something for her; it feels like it's happening fast now, spiralling. His heart is pounding.

The midwife tells him the baby's crowning and he feels that thrill go through him again. It's really happening; point of no return (although, to be fair, he had the same feeling when they found out Gabi was pregnant. Too late to change their minds now). He has a look himself, and yep, there it is. That's his baby. And he's nearly here. "Gabi," he gets her attention again. "I can see the head!" Gabi stares at him warily. "You're doing such a great job," he goes on, gushing, but whatever. He puts a quick kiss on his wife's forehead. "Do you want to see our son?" She nods.

The midwife passes him a little hand mirror and he positions it so she can see, his heart pounding because he wants to be quick before the next contraction. "Can you see?" He asks and Gabi nods. She looks up at him, her dark brown eyes watery and gives him a slight smile. Lewis grins back and then sees the exact moment she starts to prepare for the next contraction. He puts the mirror down, puts his hands on her hips to help steady her and she bares down.

Because Gabi stays quiet, so does Lewis. Not that he's one for loud and elaborate cheerleading. The midwife stays close by, keeping an eye on things, remind him to let the baby turn itself once the head comes clear, and to get Gabi to stop pushing while they check the baby's cord is free. The baby is kind of blue, which makes Lewis feel freaked, but the midwife is not panicked and he would figure she'd know. They've gone over different scenarios in the birthing classes, about things that can go wrong, but Lewis hasn't memorised each case so he can act. He's not a medical professional. He designs electrical systems for jet fighters. He'll take his cue from the midwife.

Gabi gives a final push and the baby almost slides free easily. Lewis is ready and gently catches the little guy in a towel, guiding him out and then bringing him in against his chest. Gabi relaxes against him, her knees dropping to rest on top of his and he can feel her hands slide from his shoulders. The midwife checks the baby's airway is clear and that he's generally ok and not in immediate distress, and then the little guy takes a great lungful of air and then lets out a massive cry. Lewis passes the baby to his mother but stays close, so they sit on the floor together, huddled over their new born son while he squawks.

Lewis presses a kiss to his wife's cheek and thanks her. He tells her she's amazing, and that he loves her so much, making one handed signs, while his left hand is still tucked beneath his son's head. His son. He's a daddy. And he has a son. A first born son, just like he is. He was born thirty years ago today, just a few days before father's day weekend, just like his son, also born today, just a few days before father's day weekend.

"Happy birthday baby Lightman," he says and signs to his son, doing a one-handed 'happy' by moving his flat hand backwards so it brushes against his chest, and then 'birthday' by touching the tip of his middle finger against his chin, then down to his heart.

 **PJPJPJPJ**

Lewis taps his foot against the floor while he waits for the call to pick up. He's slept a bit, but has been tasked with making all the phone calls and can't wait to do it; he's excited to tell everyone about his new son. He did Gabi's parents first, and she talked to them for a while and now it's time to call his parents. His mother answers with a smile. "Hi Lewis."

"Hi Mum," he responds, waving a hand. "We have some news." (Finger-spelt). "Meet your new grandson," he, he gets through the 'grand' sign and half of the 'son' sign before just moving his phone so Gabi and the baby appear in the camera; the second half of the 'son' sign requires two hands, and he can't do that if he's also holding his phone. The sight of the baby says it all anyway.

"Lewis!" Gillian exclaims.

Lewis moves his phone so it's right over his sleeping son's face, laying in his mother's arms, so _his_ mother can get a really good look. He can hear her exclaiming (he thinks) some more, but doesn't quite pick up the words. He looks to Gabi. "She said he's adorable. And that he looks like you," Gabi murmurs to Lewis with a smile, he nods his acknowledgement that he's heard her. He moves his phone back up, so that the three of them are within the shot and finds his mother with a silly grin and tears in her eyes. Lewis grins back, pride pushing up in his chest.

"What's his name?" Gillian asks, tapping her index and middle fingers on top of each other. She must have picked up on the laptop.

"Adam," Lewis fingerspells. "James."

"Aw," Gillian gushes. "Those are beautiful names." She moves her hand around her face, and then taps her fingers together again. "How old is he?" She uses 'age' with a questioning expression. "How big is he?" She uses 'heavy', gesturing like she's weighing something up in her hands. "And how is everyone doing?"

"He's three kilograms," Lewis signs 'three' and 'kilogram' (a 'K' hand tipping over towards his mother). "And about four hours old." He does 'four' and a one handed version of 'hour' (using a raised index finger to go around in a circle like a clock, which he would normally do against the flat palm of his left hand, but that one is holding the camera).

Gabi answers that she's fine (she signs 'ok'), and Adam's doing fine. He's feeding well already and they'll probably be able to go home later today. Her parents are going to come down to see them in a few days and then she looks to Lewis and he takes over.

"We thought about coming to see you tomorrow?" Lewis asks.

"Sure," Gillian smiles widely, "Tomorrow will be great. Or should we come to you?"

Lewis shakes his head a little. "No, it's ok. We'll come to you." He uses one hand to sign 'meet', directional towards the screen of the phone.

He knows how his Dad is.

"Is Dad there?" He uses 'Dad' and 'where?'

Gillian's expression falls slightly. So slightly, that if Lewis didn't already spend so much time looking at faces (not because his father did, but to understand what they were saying, which, actually, kind of _is_ why his father did), and hadn't had thirty years staring at his mother's face, he might not have noticed it. She's a master liar when she wants to be. He was convinced for a long time that his father had taught her how to lie, but he denied it. He denied it with a laugh though, so Lewis was never really sure. Those two were always in cahoots.

"No," she answers seamlessly. "He's taking a nap."

Which is often her excuse for when Cal is having a bad day. Lewis isn't sure if that's meant to protect him, Cal, or her. He kind of wishes she would just say 'no, it's a bad day today'. Denial isn't going to help them in the long run.

"I'll tell him you called. He'll be thrilled to hear about little Adam."

"Yeah," Lewis smiles, but it fails to reach his eyes (he might have read his Dad's books once…) This is the end of the call, because if his father is having a bad day, then Gillian can't be away from him for too long. "I'll call you tomorrow before we head over then."

"Yes, do that," she agrees. "Ok, you guys take care." She uses 'safe', raising two 'S' hands, crossing them in front of her face, them pulling them apart at the same height." All of you. Oh Lewis, honey, congratulations, and you too Gabi. And happy father's day. Love you all." She signs rapidly and blows kisses at the screen and they all say goodbye. Lewis puts his phone down on his thigh and Gabi reaches to take his hand. She squeezes his fingers, but she doesn't say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

Wholly crap, being woken every few hours is way harder than Lewis thought it was going to be. But man is it rewarding, being a dad. Even just shy of twenty-four hours, he's really loving it. He likes taking care of his son. Yeah, being woken ever two hours is tough, and the tar that comes out of his son's ass is unpleasant, but seeing his boy's eyes crack open and trying to get a glimpse of their colour, carefully putting him into clean clothes, handing him to his mother to be feed, watching him snuggle against her chest and cuddling him afterwards, is the best. He wonders what goes through his son's mind, how aware is he, this young? A day old.

And the crying isn't so loud when he doesn't have his hearing aids in. Actually, he was a bit worried he might not get woken up by his son crying, because he doesn't hear as well, but no, it hasn't been a problem. Gabi wouldn't let him get away with that for long anyway. She's handling motherhood about as well as he is settling into fatherhood. He's not sure, but he thinks they might be secretly racing each other to get to Adam first when he wakes.

Lewis texts his mum to see if it's ok to head over and she texts back that anytime is a good time. So after they wake up, have a ton of coffee (well, Lewis does), shower, dress, eat and Adam goes back to sleep, they head out. Lewis clips Adam's car seat into the back and then goes around to the driver's side. He feels incredibly paranoid driving, like every car is going to blow an intersection, or cross the centre line and hit them. It feels like everyone is driving too fast and he accelerates so carefully from a stop that Gabi looks over at him. He gives a wry smile. "I don't want to jostle him." He does a one-armed 'jostle' sign, nudging his elbow back and forth, like he's purposefully jostling someone.

She takes his hand.

 **PJPJPJPJ**

Lewis pulls into the retirement village and heads right, looping around immaculate, well-manicured streets, all perfectly paved, with evenly spaced driveways. It's easy to get lost here. And he has. Just once. Owen reckons he gets lost all the time, and Lewis doesn't know why he just doesn't use GPS; it seems the most logical thing to do if he has such an issue with direction. Lewis makes another left turn and then left again into the third bungalow on the row. He parks in the driveway and cuts the engine and looks over at his wife. He gives her a smile, but her eyes are careful on his. Yeah, he knows, things with his parents haven't been easy in the last few years. His Dad has been steadily getting worse, which breaks his heart enough as it is, but then he sees how it cuts his mother, and that makes it worse. It was Lewis who suggested they move to an assisted care living facility (blech to the name, but it just means that if something happens with Cal, there are medical staff in the complex who can go over and help. And they check in on Cal and Gillian periodically as well, but they get to keep their independence, because, as Gillian argued for months on end, they don't need other people in their business twenty-four hours a day) and then had to convince everyone else that it was a good idea.

Their family home is far too big for their mum to handle on her own, and with Dad not helping out anymore it got too much. Gabi has been amazing, supporting Lewis with everything, _literally,_ everything. She's gone to help clean the house, bring food, do dishes, call in after work when Lewis couldn't, harass Owen to do the same. She's listened to Lewis trying to justify the move for hours on end, even when he started to repeat himself, in a desperate attempt to get the argument 'just right' so his mother couldn't counter it; so that she could see that taking Cal to a retirement village wasn't a sign of defeat, but adjustment, because she needed help. It wasn't a slight against her ability to look after her husband. She just needed a little change.

Hell, she's even taken Cal screaming at her to get the fuck out of his house.

She's a saint. A proper saint.

"You ok?" Gabi asks as they sit there.

Lewis reaches for his seatbelt and releases the catch. "Yep," he nods.

She puts her hand on his arm, her way of getting his attention, making sure he's looking at her, listening. She watches him a moment with liquid brown eyes. "She said it was a good day," she tries, signing 'good' and 'day'.

"Yeah," Lewis nods. "But I just wish," he draws his hand down his chest, "It wasn't happening this way." He shakes his head as he makes a 'happen' sign.

She nods and reaches for her own seatbelt but before she gets out of the car she grabs his neck and puts a kiss on his cheek. When she pulls back she's smiling and Lewis grins. Gabi gets Adam from the back, and Lewis gets the baby bag from the boot (Cal calls it the boot and Lewis deliberately holds onto the things his Dad says, his British-isms; his way of holding on). He goes to the door and rings the bell and then his mother is there, grinning so brightly, almost bouncing on her toes. She grabs him for a tight hug, quick, slaps a kiss on his cheek and then almost shunts him aside. She's cooing over Adam, still asleep in his car seat, while Gabi stands on the doorstep.

"Mum," Lewis pulls her back gently by the shoulder. "Let them inside."

Gillian makes a shushing sound at him, which could just be her shushing him, or hissing something else that he misses, but she lets him pull her back so Gabi can come in. Gillian leads her into the living room and Lewis closes the door. When he turns back, he has this horrid feeling, wondering where his father is, and dreading what kind of mood he's going to be in. Even though Gillian said he was having a good day. Lewis takes a breath and follows after his wife and mother and son.

Gillian is already lifting Adam out of the car restraint when Lewis enters the room. Cal is there, watching on, but looking a little unsure. Adam stirs but Gillian tucks him expertly against her, shushes him gently, rubs his back, rocks a little on her feet. It makes Lewis smile but he goes to his old man, shoving down that fear that he's going to look at him blankly, because even though it's strange to have his father look at him like he's a stranger, it's not the first time it happened. Not that Lewis wants it to be ok by getting used to it. The air feels claustrophobic as Lewis greets Cal, and he's not sure, but he thinks all other noise stops. "Dad," Lewis puts his hand on Cal's shoulder, bony beneath the t-shirt he's wearing.

There goes the blank stare, and a cloud of confusion, as Cal turns to him. His eyes flicker to Gillian, Lewis can tell, but he remains focused on his father. "It's Lewis," he says, and quickly fingerspells his own name.

"Lewis," Cal repeats and because he doesn't frown or step away from him, Lewis gives him a hug. Which Cal returns, and when Lewis steps back his dad is smiling at him, a crinkly smile, the good, warm kind. "How are you?"

"I'm good Dad," Lewis beams. "Come and meet my son."

"Your son?" Cal asks, like he's finally figured out whose baby this is.

"Adam," Lewis tells him, guiding him by the shoulder to stand with Gillian and have a look. They all watch Cal take in the baby.

"Do you want to have a hold?" Gillian asks, though Lewis is surprised she's going to give the baby up easily.

"Oh no," Cal takes a half step back, "I might drop him." It's not a joke he'd normally make. Normally, he'd be in there. So his lack of confidence tells Lewis that he's still a little unsure about what's happening, and probably who this is.

"Let's sit," Gillian suggests and goes to the couch. Lewis puts the baby bag down by the chair, where the baby carrier is, moves it so he can sit there instead, and Gabi sits with Gillian. They start talking about the first night, how Adam's feeding, how they slept. "Your Dad was a great sleeper," Gillian tells Adam. "But he was terrible at feeding."

Gabi gives a slight smile, shot in Lewis' direction as she answers, "Adam's been great. I think we got lucky." She double taps her middle finger against her chin and then turns it so it's pointing at the floor.

"I think so too," Lewis says from his seat. "But we're still pretty tired." The sign for tired is similar to adjusting a heavy pack on his back.

"Well thank you for coming to see us," Gillian says warmly. She signs a one handed 'visit', a 'V' hand moving towards her in a big circle.

"Owen wasn't great at feeding either," Cal says. He's still standing in the middle of the room, and seems a little lost.

"He wasn't," Gillian continues smoothly, with a smile and a shake of her head. "But he had a good reason," she makes a circular gesture near her forehead.

"He had a rough birth," Cal supplies, as if Gabi and Lewis haven't heard this story before. "Gill's blood pressure dropped and for a while there…" he trails off. Tension fills the room for a second. Gabi looks at Lewis and he purposefully doesn't look at her, so he can pretend he's not bothered by his father confusing his birth story with his brother's.

"Both our boys had a rather tense entrance to the world huh?" Gillian fills that second of silence, looking up at him as if he hasn't said something weird, as if he hasn't dropped off conversation midsentence.

"Hm," Cal says and shuffles on his feet. He's looking confused now, and Lewis wants to get up and take his hand and say 'hey Dad, it's ok, I'm Lewis, your son' but sometimes, that only confuses him further. For now, he only trusts Gillian implicitly.

"We're lucky to have them," she goes on, double tapping her middle finger against her chin and then turning it so it's pointing at the floor.

"Yeah," Cal sighs. He looks to the door, around the room, then settles back on Gillian.

"Do you want to come and sit with us?" She asks. It sounds patronising, the question, not her tone, but Cal needs it. He needs the guidance on what he's doing.

"Whose baby is this?" He asks.

"Lewis and Gabi's," Gillian answers patiently. "This is Adam. Do you want to have a hold?"

"No."

Lewis feels himself tense.

"Babe, can you do me a favour?" Gillian goes on easily. "I need some things for the dinner that we're going to make later."

"You want me to go to the store?"

"Would you? That would be really helpful."

"I'll go with you," Lewis stands, knowing the part he should play in this scenario.

"There's a list in the kitchen," Gillian directs.

"I'll get the list," Lewis volunteers. "Do you need to put shoes on Dad?"

Cal looks at his slippered feet. "Yeah, I uh. I'm not sure where I left my shoes."

"Probably in your bedroom," Lewis directs. They've done this before too.

"Right," Cal agrees and shuffles off to get them.


	3. Chapter 3

Lewis grabs the list and then goes back to the living room. Gillian and Gabi are talking about the birth now. "I don't really remember much about it," Gabi admits.

"You were focussed," Lewis interjects, moving his slightly cupped hands from near his head down to a point in front of him.

"Lewis delivered Adam though," she says, and signs, with a smile, which makes Lewis grin.

"Really?" Gillian asks with surprise, moving her index finger from her lips down to point straight ahead. He nods. "Well that's pretty cool. I don't think they would have let Cal do that." She finger-spells his name.

"Would he want to?" Lewis asks.

Gillian gives him a slightly unimpressed expression. "Of course. He would have completely loved it. I, on the other hand, might have been a little concerned." She talks to Adam, but signs with one hand. Lewis laughs.

"I think it's really special," Gabi offers, gripping the tip of her left index finger with the tips of her right fingers and pulling it up. "That he was delivered by his dad," she brushes her fingers affectionately over the fine black hair on her son's head. She's sitting so close to Gillian she just about has the baby in her arms as well.

"It is," Gillian agrees with a smile in Lewis's direction. "Oh he's just so precious!" She leans down to give Adam a kiss. "Grandma is going to eat you all up!"

Lewis laughs again and gets to his feet. "I'm going to go rescue Dad." Who is taking too long to get his shoes. He's probably gotten confused. Or forgotten what he went to the bedroom for. Lewis is right, he finds Cal standing in front of his wardrobe, the doors open, staring in. "Ready to get going Dad?" He asks casually.

"I can't seem to find my shoes," he answers. "They're usually in here. All my otha shoes are in here."

"What about these ones here?" Lewis points to Cal's walking shoes by an armchair, which is also draped with some of his mother's clothes.

"Oh, right yeah," Cal says and moves to sit.

"You probably already got them out," Lewis suggests, turning his hands towards his body, fingers splayed, giving them two little shakes, and finishing with the palms facing the floor. He sits on the end of his parent's bed.

"Probably," Cal mutters. He puts the first shoe on and Lewis kneels to tie the laces for him. The guy will be eighty in a few weeks. "I rememba doin' that for you not that long ago," he says, waiting for Lewis tie the second shoe.

Lewis looks up and gives him a grin. "Quite a while ago Dad." He makes a large 'ago' sign, to mean a long time past. "I've been tying my shoes since I was five."

"It was six and a half," Cal corrects. "Slow learna."

Lewis laughs lightly and stands up. "That's not true!" He signs 'lie'. "Must have been my teacher."

"Your mutha?" Cal teases, following Lewis to the door. Lewis pokes his head back into the living room to tell his mother and Gabi that they're leaving. Gillian reminds him to take the tote bags from by the door but when he goes to get them, Cal already has them. Memory is a fickle fish, Lewis thinks as they head out. Short term memory was the first to go. Big holes in Cal remembering what he was doing from one moment to the next, or who people were, especially if he had just met them. But as the years have gone on he's confused more and more from the distant past as well. Places, people and timelines, and yet Lewis has never considered his father, when he does come up with something, to be incorrect. Lewis only knows what he remembers himself. So if Cal tells him it was Gillian who taught him to tie his laces, he'll have to take him at his word. There's no point in challenging him anyway. It just makes Cal agitated. And what does it achieve? He can always ask his mother about it sometime.

"Whose car is that?" Cal asks on the step, as Lewis closes the front door.

Lewis hasn't quite heard him, but Cal is pointing at the car with a frown, and this is not a new question. "That's my car," he answers.

"Right," Cal says and steps down to walk around it. He gets to the curb and hesitates for a second, before deciding to head left. Lewis falls into pace with him, shortening his stride to match his father's much shorter strut. He still struts, which Lewis remembers distinctly from his childhood, particularly visiting his father at work. The cocky strut. His strut now is more about keeping his balance, so it's shorter in gait and wider in stance.

"I don't rememba what your mutha wanted from the store," Cal admits as they weave through the barriers at the end of the alleyway.

"I brought the list," Lewis tells him.

"Good thinkin' Batman," Cal says. They walk down the alley and weave through the barriers at the other end, designed to stop children from racing down the smooth pavement. They head out onto the street, going right this time, walking towards the grocery store. It'd take Lewis ten minutes on his own, but with Cal's shorter stride it is closer to twenty. He had a hip replaced three years ago, the one he broke in The Accident, and his hair is white and thinned so that Lewis can see the caterpillar scar on his temple, also from The Accident. But only if he looks for it.

Half the reason why Cal is unwell is because of The Accident. Or at least, it's made him more susceptible. It's funny that right after The Accident, Cal lost big chunks of his memory, but they slowly came back. And now he's losing them all over again, but slowly. Until big chunks will be missing again.

Not really funny.

"It's a nice day," Lewis says.

Cal looks over at him. "I used to know someone who was deaf." He makes a 'hard of hearing' sign; it's the only thing he's signed today. Lewis wonders if his dad is talking about him. "But I can't rememba his name." He looks to Lewis to supply the answer.

"Kent," Lewis fingerspells.

"Yes. Kent."

"Kent went to live in London," Lewis adds. He's still there, married with two girls.

Cal raises his eyebrows. "I didn't know that. Or I probably did, right?"

"Yeah, he went a while ago."

"Hm," Cal says.

 **PJPJPJPJ**

The walking to the store is to distract Cal. When he gets agitated (by an unfamiliar situation, like having visitors), giving him something to do helps distract and calm him down again. Calm his mind, Lewis figures. He doesn't get why it works, but it does. So Gillian purposefully doesn't go grocery shopping anymore. She makes little lists and buys things in drips and drabs, when Cal needs the distraction. She never sends him out on his own, because that's too much risk for him getting lost, and when it rains, she saves other things for him to do instead. Nothing elaborate, like doing a puzzle, because that requires too much cognitive function. Simple things, like folding washing or gardening (Lewis swears they've re-potted the plants on the terrace and by the front door a hundred times. Gillian buys things that grow big and fast). It's funny though, because after Lewis and Cal walk to the store, he finds his dad not just calmer, but also more like himself.

"How's school these days?" Cal asks as they head back towards the assisted living care facility (blech).

More like himself, even if he does still forget quite a lot.

"I'm not in school anymore. I design and test electrical systems for fighter jets," Lewis answers, waiting for his father to weave through the barriers at the end of the alleyway, before following him through.

"I thought you were in college?"

"I finished college a few years ago," Lewis patiently explains, making sure to leave any inflection of impatience out of his tone. They have this conversation almost every time.

"How old are you?" Cal looks over at him.

"Thirty, Dad. I'm thirty now."

He leaves it at that. While Cal knows he's not well and is deteriorating slowly (most of the time. Sometimes he does forget that, and those aren't good days), there are still some details that set him off on a downward spiral. Lewis could tell him that it was his birthday a few days ago, but why ruin what's been a nice hour talking with his father?

"Geeze. An old man," Cal quips, he looks over at Lewis and grins. Lewis gives him a nudge as they walk. "Oi, careful of my new hip!"

As they exit the alleyway Cal hesitates. He's forgotten which way to go. Lewis wordlessly starts walking in the right direction and Cal follows. When they get to the house Cal asks whose car that is in the driveway. Lewis tells him it's his. Cal nods like he remembers, but Lewis doubts that he does. He doesn't point out that they literally had that conversation an hour ago; it doesn't matter anymore.

When Lewis gets through the front door he can hear a baby crying. His first impulse is to go running towards it, but he has to make sure Cal is in the house first; he's a wandering risk. He doesn't hear the voices in the other room, Gillian hushing Adam gently and Gabi saying she's ready to feed. But when he enters the room Gabi is feeding Adam on the couch and he's quiet, happy. Lewis checks his watch. They were gone just over an hour. So yeah, that seems about right, the baby should be awake and hungry about now.

"Hey honey," Gillian greets him from the edge of the couch. She gets up and approaches. "How'd it go?" She places the backs of fingers together in front of her stomach, so her fingertips are pointed to the floor, then rolls her wrists so they're pointing to the ceiling.

"Good," Lewis lifts his shopping bag as proof. "And," he turns behind him and Cal is there. "One returned husband." He makes a 'C' hand by his forehead, and then brings it down to clasp in his other hand.

"Aw, thanks," Gillian smiles, and gives Cal a quick kiss. He looks pleased. Lewis deposits his shopping bag on the kitchen bench and finds his mother has followed him to help put the meagre groceries away. "Adam is so lovely," she starts, using her fingertips to encompass her face, like a shortened 'beautiful' sign, and then opening her hand out again, palm still towards her face. "After he woke up and before he started crying, he opened his eyes at me."

"Must have been wind," Lewis teases, swishing his hands back and forth in front of him, but he feels that swell of pride anyway, talking about his son.

"Oh, you," Gillian smacks his arm. "You're just like your father," she signs harshly, but she's smiling with it. Lewis grins and leans into the pantry to put the onions away.

"Are things ok with you and Dad?" Lewis asks her as she puts milk into the fridge.

"Yeah," she says easily.

"Yesterday?" He places this thumb on his lower jaw, fist out, and then moves up towards his ear.

"Was your son's birthday. Worry about him. You don't need to worry about your dad and I. We're fine." She shakes her head as she signs 'concern'.

Lewis pulls his mouth into a frown. But Gillian stops him from saying anything more by putting her hands over his, silencing his voice. "We're fine Lewis. It is what it is, and some days are tough and some days, like today, are good." She signs and emphatic 'good', but Lewis can see the edge of sadness in her eyes. It's been there since they got back from Italy. "Go and see for yourself," she suggests, pointing to the living room. There are no more groceries to put away anyway.

Lewis puts his arms around his mother's shoulders, giving her a tight hug. She's a lot smaller than she used to be too. She's seventy-five. He gives her a kiss and she gives him a smile. "We'll go after Adam finishes feeding." He uses 'eat'. "I think I need an afternoon nap." He uses 'sleep'.

Gillian's smile goes a little wider, almost a smirk. "I remember those times. And I did them when I was a lot older than you." She gives his shoulder a squeeze and he brushes past her to goes into the other room. Cal is sitting next to Gabi on the couch, who is propped up with a pillow to help her feed. He's talking to her quietly, Lewis can tell because he can see his father's mouth moving, and he can hear a buzz of a voice, but he can't make out the words. It doesn't matter though, because it's clear they're having a nice conversation. No telling her to get the fuck out of the house this time. To be fair, that was a few years ago. Medication has helped. A mood stabiliser, sleeping tablets, and a few other things that are meant to slow down the degeneration of Cal's brain. There is still no cure for Alzheimer's, but treatments have gotten a lot better. Six year death sentences have almost doubled. Lewis tries not to count, but Cal's still got a few years left. And he's only in the middle stages of the disease; there's still a long way to go before he entirely becomes a shell of himself.

Lewis goes to sit with his wife. He puts a kiss on her. "Everything ok?"

"Yes," she smiles at him and he smiles back.

"Cal?" Gillian calls from the doorway. "Will you help me with lunch?"

"Of course, luv," Cal gets up and walks away.

"We're not staying for lunch," Lewis tells his wife, with a shake of his head.

"What about you?" Gabi asks him. "Did you have a good time with your dad?" She signs less as she holds their son.

"Yeah, he's in a good place today. We talked. It was nice."

"That's good," she smiles again.

"Home after this?"

"God yes," Gabi groans. "I'm exhausted." She doesn't make the sign, but because she's turned right towards Lewis, he hears her loud and clear.

"You're amazing," Lewis tells her, exaggerating the sign. "That's what you are."


	4. Chapter 4

When they leave, Lewis promises to call in again sometime in the next few days. Gillian tells him not to worry about it, but he does worry, because he knows Owen doesn't come by too often, and Emily doesn't even live in the city anymore, so that leaves Lewis, and he doesn't want his mother to get isolated. His dad probably doesn't notice. But it's important that Gillian be supported by her family and that's Lewis. _And_ Owen. But still, Lewis feels as though it's his responsibility to take care of his mother while she takes care of his father. He makes a point to every few days, and on the weekends Gabi would take Gillian out for coffee while Lewis hung out with his father at the house. Or sometimes they'd go down to the ceramics class the retirement village put on, or one of the other activities they ran. So long as Cal was having a good day. If it was a bad day, Lewis still made Gillian leave, and tried his best to handle his father. Not always successfully. But he knows mental health is just as important as physical health.

"Put me down for babysitting," Gillian calls through the car window as they're preparing to leave. Lewis and Gabi both immediately smile and make noncommittal noises; it doesn't have to be said: Cal and a baby at the same time would be too much, and they won't burden Gillian.

"Love you Mum," Lewis says instead. "Bye Dad, love you."

"Love you too Lewis," Cal answers. He raises his hand to wave, and brings Gillian's with it, seeing as they're holding hands. It makes Lewis feel warm to know his father, despite it all, is still dedicated to his mother. They've been married just over thirty years, but looking at them, it seems like a lifetime.

Lewis takes his family home. Adam sleeps through and once inside his parents decide to have an afternoon nap. After Adam had finished feeding Cal did have a hold, so Lewis feels a lot better about it. He made sure to get some photos. All those moments are becoming precious. They sleep for about an hour, and then Adam wakes them again to be fed. Lewis jumps out of bed before Gabi and does diaper duty (as quickly as he can, the crying starts to get to him after a while) and then hands the squalling new born over to his mother, just as his phone starts ringing. It flashes an almost strobe-like light and vibrates against the nightstand. Lewis notices the light. Gabi probably hears the vibration. They both look over at it. Lewis scoops it up and sees that it's his brother.

"Owen," he says to Gabi. He sits back on his side of the bed, leaning against the headboard, and propping up the phone so he an answer with the video. "Hey," he says to the screen.

"Yo," Owen answers. "Mom said Gabi had the baby?" He grins as he signs 'mother', 'talk', fingerspells 'Gabi' and signs 'baby'. He must be using a computer, because he signs with two hands. And his eyes don't quite line up with the camera.

"Yeah," Lewis grins. "Want to see him?" He moves his phone so it takes in little Adam feeding against his mother.

"Jesus, is that Gabi's boob?" Owen asks loudly.

"Hi Owen," Gabi calls. Lewis moves the phone so she can give him a smile and wave.

"Congratulations!" Owen calls back.

Lewis moves the phone back so it's just on him.

"He's cute," Owen offers next, using 'beautiful'. "Mom said you guys are doing all right." He uses 'ok'.

"We are," Lewis confirms. "Tired," he uses the backpack adjusting sign, but does it with one hand. "But good. When did you talk to Mum?" 'Talk' is making a small circle beside the mouth with the index finger.

"She called me yesterday." He places this thumb on his lower jaw, fist out, and then moves up towards his ear.

"Have you been to see them recently?" He taps a fist against the side of his mouth very subtly.

"Uh, yeah, like, the other week." Owen waves a hand absently. It's not an official sign, but in their house it means a vague answer.

"Wen, you should go and see them more regularly –"

"Don't start on me," Owen almost whines, using a 'stop' gesture.

"They're not going to be around forever –"

"It's weird –"

"That's not a good excuse –"

"Dad calls me Lewis all the time," Owen gives a disgusted expression, finger-spelling his brother's name rapidly: 'L', 'W', 'S'.

"He's just confused," Lewis tries to patient his tone again, because he knows his brother can be a stubborn ass, and sometimes pushing him too hard just makes him run in the other direction. "I know it's hard. I'm there too, and I know what it's like. But you just got to go and just spend time with them. At least go and see Mum. She really needs our support right now."

"Why? What's going on now?" Owen looks a little alarmed, using the 'wh?' sign.

"I just mean, these days, in general. She needs to see her sons."

"She doesn't say anything to me about it."

"She's not going to," Lewis sighs. "But do it anyway. And Dad, he wants to see you too."

"He doesn't know who I am half the time."

"And he's going to be dead in a few years and then you'll regret it!" Lewis snaps. Owen looks down and away. But damn, it's an argument they've had many times. It didn't seem so important several years ago when Cal was first showing signs of dementia, or even when he was first diagnosed, because back then it was just names and dates and events. And now it was forgetting them.

"Sorry," Lewis says, rubbing a fist against his chest. Beside him he feels Gabi move her arm and she signs a quick one handed 'together'. "Why don't we go together some times?" Lewis suggests to his brother on the screen, who has fallen silent and almost petulant; petulant because he's wrong, but still doesn't like being told off. Even though he's twenty-five and a 'grown up'. "And I can help you with some ways of dealing with Dad. There are things you can do that… make a difference."

Like going for a walk.

Actually, why didn't he think of this before?

Oh yeah, because Owen is an adult and Lewis thinks he should be more grown up than he is. Which probably isn't entirely fair. He's twenty-five. He has a job. He plays professional sport. He is grown up. But Lewis thinks it's easier for Owen being the youngest. There was always someone to go before him, to pave the way as such. If he's not forced to deal with a situation, why would he ever do it voluntarily? Especially when it's hard. And why should he? Why should he have to grow up faster than he needs to? Lewis remembers when his father had The Accident. He doesn't remember exact details but he remembers what it felt like, and he remembers thinking that he should not bother his father, who was clearly not well, which is a big thing for a four and a half year old to conclude. No four year old should feel like they can't 'bother' their father. He's not blaming anyone, but he does remember that time period being difficult.

"Sorry Owen," Lewis says again. "I don't mean to be a dick." He uses a one-handed 'difficult' sign.

Owen gives a slight shake of his head. "Me either. It's just…"

"Hard," Lewis supplies.

"Yeah."

"And unfair." He makes a circle out of his index finger and thumb, and brushes it down and away.

"Yeah that too," Owen looks up, right into the camera, his blue eyes piercing. "It _is_ unfair," he almost pouts. He sighs, Lewis can tell, because of the way he huffs his shoulders, but the rush of air is a little lost on him. "I want to try but, I guess I just don't know what to say," he mumbles. Thank god for signing, because Lewis definitely didn't catch the end of that. Owen shakes his head as he signs 'talk' and points to himself: I no talk.

"Thursday," Lewis says. "There's a pottery class in the main building after five. I'm no good, but it's kind of fun and I often take Dad and give Mum half an hour by herself. Or maybe she could hang with Gabi and Adam," he looks at his wife, who is stroking their son's head. She looks over at him and gives him a smile and a little nod. Of course, everything is contingent on Adam now, but Gillian would _love_ it. "Thursday?" Lewis presses, when Owen hasn't answered.

"Yeah, ok, Thursday," Owen agrees. "I can do Thursday." He nods. "All right Lew. I'll come over and see Adam some time before then."

"Text," Lewis suggests but nods. "How's work?"

"Blah," Owen answers. "I mean, it's all right, but it's not as cool as what you do."

Lewis gives a wry grin. Owen doesn't really know what he wants to do yet. But he went to college and got a degree and now he has a job, so yeah, grown up. He is at least not putting his head in the sand on his entire life. "You'll find something," he encourages. "Are you coaching Little League this season?"

"Assistant Coach," Owen beams.

"Congratulations," Lewis offers back.

"It's a step up," Owen agrees.

"Maybe next season Head Coach?" Lewis suggests.

"Dunno," Owen gives a shrug. "I still have a lot to learn before I'd feel like I could take over."

"Something to work on then," Lewis says.

"You sound like Dad when you say that."

"You sound like Mum when you say that," Lewis shoots back.

"Did you hear that?" Owen cups a hand to his ear. "I think that's my other phone ringing," he gives Lewis a grin.

"Fuck you," Lewis gives him the fingers. Owen returns it, still grinning, so they sit for a moment flipping each other off.

Owen shifts his hand to the 'ILY' sign. "Love you."

"Love you too," Lewis echoes both.

"Bye Gabi!" Owen yells.

Lewis moves the phone to Gabi and she waves goodbye. Lewis ends the call and tosses his phone to the bed. "Wholly crap I'm tired!" He complains. He looks over at Gabi. "How are you doing?" Because if he feels tired, she's got to be feeling worse. And sore. She gave birth yesterday.

Gabi gives a slightly wan smile. "I'm good, but also tired. As soon as this guy goes down again, I think I will too." She makes a 'W' hand and puts it to her mouth, "Could you get me some water?"

"Of course. Can I get you anything else? Food or something?"

"Just the water, honey, thanks," she smiles at him.

Lewis smiles back, because he doesn't seem to be able to help it. When Gabi smiles at him, he smiles back. That's how they got talking the very first time. He leans over and kisses the side of her head. He holds up the 'ILY' sign again.

"Love you too," Gabi says, making the same sign.

 **AN:** thanks for reading. And thank you again to those who reviewed. It was Lewis's actual birthday this father's day weekend just gone (June 2015). I felt the occasion needed to be marked


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